


one more thing

by Anyawen



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Missing Scene, Pre-Slash, Spectre - Freeform, first date if you squint, fix-it ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 22:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19799338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anyawen/pseuds/Anyawen
Summary: After the events on the bridge, Bond visits Q to request one more thing before he goes.





	one more thing

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to ato-the-bean for letting me talk her ear off after having seen the Craig Bond films, and telling me to write the thing.

Q forced a smile at Bond's words.

_'There's just one more thing I need.'_

Of course there was. Of bloody course. One more thing he needed, _from Q_ , before he disappeared.

“I promised her father I'd make sure she was safe,” Bond continued.

“And she'll be safest with you, naturally. I understand,” Q replied, turning away, strained smile dropping from his face. He wasn't quite sure why he was so disappointed.

Q felt Bond's fingers close around his elbow as the agent huffed a quiet laugh.

“No one is safe with me,” he replied. “I am not a safe man to be around.”

“No, I suppose that's true. Still, after all this? She must know the risks,” Q said quietly, not turning around.

“She does, and accepts them,” Bond agreed. “Though, I'm not sure why it matters.”

“You're not sure why it matters whether she's safe with you?” Q asked, incredulous.

“I'm not sure why it matters, because she won't be with me. That's why I'm here, Q. I need one more thing to fulfill my promise to her father.”

Q turned back to Bond, meeting his gaze. Bond's look was calmly curious, lips quirked into the beginning of a smile. Q's brows rose, his own lips tipping upward in a mirrored response he could not help.

“Am I to assume that this request is, again, not strictly official?”

“Depends on how you look at it. It's the final piece of the last mission M gave me.”

“So, not official at all, then,” Q said. “What is it?”

“A new identity for Dr. Swann.”

“Ah.” Q said, nodding. “Unofficial or not, you could put the request in through proper channels. You know it would be approved.”

“Proper channels means a proper record that people with the proper credentials can access. She needs a clean break. An entirely new start.”

“Right. Well. It will take a couple of hours to put together.”

“Take as much time as you need, Q, I'll wait.”

The hand on Q's arm gave a gentle squeeze and then released him. Q focused on Bond briefly. The agent's expression remained curious, and oddly hopeful. It was a combination with which Q was intimately familiar. His vague disappointment faded. He smiled.

“Have a seat, then, Bond. And do try not to break anything.”

Bond's face shifted into a mock hurt expression and Q chuckled, shaking his head as he turned away and crossed the room back to his desk.

Two and a half hours later Q stood and rifled through a filing cabinet to pull out a blank blue passport book. A nearby printer whirred to life. Q opened the book to the correct page and fed it through the machine, giving it a cursory look and a satisfied nod when it emerged. Pulling open a drawer he removed the appropriate stamp, adjusted the date, inked it, and applied it to the passport book before glancing up to nod at Bond.

“Swiss born, undergraduate degree from Université de Genève, moved to Quebec to pursue a doctorate in psychology from McGill University in Montreal, after which she decided to remain in Canada, becoming a permanent resident in 2007 and a naturalized citizen in 2011. Spent the last three years working with veterans at Fondation de l'Hôpital Sainte-Anne. A quiet life, quietly lived,” Q said as James crossed to stand beside him, accepting the passport and looking at the constructed history laid out on his laptop screen.

“Bit of bad luck about the house fire while she was on holiday in Zurich. Looks like the insurance on the house should be enough to get her situated somewhere new. I believe she was looking to change employers anyway,” Bond said, reading the insurance adjuster's report on the fire damage claim.

“Indeed,” Q replied. “Your flight leaves Zurich tonight at 9 PM.”

“I think Dr. Swann – that is, Dr. Chapel – can manage the flight home to Montreal on her own.”

Q gave Bond a thoughtful look, then nodded.

“I'll cancel your ticket, then.”

“Thank you, Q,” Bond responded, turning away.

“Bond. You still have to get her to the airport. It's a ten and a half hour drive.”

“Nine and a half.”

“Yes, well I suspect that with the right car it might even be nine flat.”

Bond stopped and turned to look over his shoulder, a delighted grin on his face.

“Oh? Did you have a car in mind?”

“The DB5 needs road testing. I'll require a full report, of course.”

“Understood.”

“And if there's a single scratch on her, Bond—”

“I'll treat her well.”

“Yes, I expect you will,” Q said, pulling the keys out of his own pocket and smiling at Bond's raised eyebrow. “I was planning to reserve the track at Llandow this weekend for testing.”

“You still could,” Bond replied, fingers grazing Q's palm as they closed over the keys in his outstretched hand.

“I rather imagined that you'd take the long way back from Zurich, put her through her paces.”

“Make the reservation, Q. I'll meet you in Cardiff Saturday morning.”

“Safe trip, Bond. And do wish Dr. Chapel the best of luck for me.”


End file.
